


The Worst Kind of Irony

by GeckoGirl89



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Cordelia's Funeral, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Irony, POV Angel (BtVS), Post-Episode: s05e12 You're Welcome, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeckoGirl89/pseuds/GeckoGirl89
Summary: They lower Cordelia's body into the grave, and Angel starts laughing.





	The Worst Kind of Irony

**Author's Note:**

> Written in February for this prompt at comment-fic (http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/796606.html?thread=102400446#t102400446): "Any (please no SPN), any, laughing during a funeral"

They lower Cordelia's body into the grave, and Angel starts laughing.  
  
He feels Fred's gentle, cautious touch on his arm. She probably assumes that he's lost his mind, which isn't too far from the truth. "Angel?"  
  
Angel shakes his head, hysterical laughter still pouring forth from his body. "She would have hated this. Everybody is all sad and wearing black. She would have hated this so much."  
  
Angel can sense everyone frowning at him, some in confusion, but all he can do is stare at the tombstone and remember Cordelia when she was still alive. She was always telling him that he "might think about mixing up the black on black look" and doing anything she could to get him to stop "brooding."  
  
But she isn't around anymore, and now they're having this funeral for her. This funeral that would probably annoy her if she was capable of being annoyed. She isn't capable of being annoyed anymore, and she isn't here to urge him to "snap out of it." The thought sobers Angel, hitting him with a tidal wave of grief so strong that he's tempted to dive into the grave after her body, if only so that he won't have to be parted from her again.  
  
Fred draws away when the laughter dissolves into sobs, and distantly, Angel can hear Wesley telling Fred to give him some space. He falls to his knees in front of the grave that is being filled with dirt to cover her coffin.  
  
_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust._ They had this burial at night so that Angel could come, but Angel wouldn't be too concerned if the sun rose over the horizon right now. At least, that way, he could still be with Cordelia.  
  
Spike grips him by the shoulder and tugs him upward. "Stand up, you git. She wouldn't want you to act like this."  
  
Angel shakes off Spike's hold, but he allows himself to be pulled upward. His grandchilde is right. Cordy wouldn't want him to fall apart because of her.  
  
Angel takes a couple of steps and steadies himself by holding onto her tombstone. Even in death, she's the only thing that keeps him from collapsing.  
  
Once the burial is finished, the others slowly begin to leave. Angel only starts to go with them when Lorne pushes him forward.  
  
"Come on, strudel. You can come back tomorrow."  
  
Angel bites his lip to contain another cry and casts one last, longing look back at her tombstone, where her body rests. Her soul has long since departed, but that's as close as Angel will ever get to Cordy again.  
  
_Tomorrow,_ he thinks. He will come back tomorrow and every night after that until he can see her face again. That idea gives him enough strength to reluctantly leave Cordelia and return to Wolfram and Hart, at least for now.


End file.
